


Anima

by CodeCherry



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Bodyswap, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Follows the events of the Dream SMP, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodeCherry/pseuds/CodeCherry
Summary: Anima were rare.So rare, in fact, that most saw them as myths, legends, children’s stories. After all, when most would not ever have the experience of switching bodies with another individual for extended periods of time, and those who did often remained silent… it was difficult to believe.Ever rarer were the anima who met in their daily lives. If two in a million people were soulmates, only a measly five percent of those soulmates would ever meet. Most were content to merely live two separate lives: themselves eighty percent of the time, and their partner the other twenty.Tommy was not one of them.---------------------------------------------------------The events of the Dream SMP, if Tommy and Tubbo were soulmates who occasionally swapped bodies for a day. Inspired by the movie Your Name.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 49
Kudos: 781
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Tommy and Tubbo Friendship Supremacy





	Anima

**Author's Note:**

> For more MCYT Soulmate content, check out my other one-shot, Green c:  
> As I said in the notes for Green, this fandom is severely lacking in soulmate content, and I am here to provide. Comments and Kudos are much appreciated!  
> Events in this story are accurate up to December 9th.  
> Enjoy!

_Anima_ were rare.

So rare, in fact, that most saw them as myths, legends, children’s stories. After all, when most would not ever have the experience of switching bodies with another individual for extended periods of time, and those who did often remained silent… it was difficult to believe.

Ever rarer were the _anima_ who met in their daily lives. If two in a million people were soulmates, only a measly five percent of those soulmates would ever meet. Most were content to merely live two separate lives: themselves eighty percent of the time, and their partner the other twenty.

Tommy was not one of them.

\---------------------------------------------------------

It was fortunate that the first time Tommy swapped bodies with Tubbo, they had both been alone.

He had woken, disoriented and alone in a wooden cabin in a forest that he didn’t recognize, and had promptly proceeded to panic. In his haste to get out of bed and out the door, he didn’t realize that his limbs were shorter than usual, resulting in him tumbling rather clumsily down the stairs and into a flowerpot, sending it crashing to the ground beside him.

His second clue came when he opened the cabin’s door only to see thick trees and dozens of flowers all around him, instead of plains and distant ice.

His third came when he caught his reflection in the stream that trickled lazily through the stream.

\---------------------------------------------------------

If Tommy was going to have a soulmate—if he was going to be an _anima_ —he wasn’t going to sit around and buy into the ”you two will never meet” shit that he’d grown up hearing.

Being an _anima_ was rare enough, he thought. Why not shatter all expectations entirely and, well, be the soulmates they were meant to be?

He glanced at the coords to the cabin, hastily scribbled on a scrap piece of parchment, and back at his compass with a wide grin.

\---------------------------------------------------------

A year into his friendship with his soulmate, Tubbo decided that they were both abysmal actors.

In all honesty, it was a wonder that they hadn’t been discovered yet. They only swapped for a day at a time, maybe once or twice a week, but they often stumbled through the days that they did, particularly at first. It was difficult to believably pretend to be someone you barely knew, after all.

Tommy’s friend Deo was the first to ask Tubbo to his face (while swapped, so technically Tommy’s face) if he was really Tommy. He had then proceeded to inform Tubbo that he was doing a shit job of it, and had sat him down to give him lessons on “how to best act like the great Tommy Innit.”

They needed a better plan, Tubbo concluded.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Meeting up and staying together permanently proved to be easier than initially expected when Wilbur extended the offer for Tommy to accompany him to the new lands of the Dream SMP.

It had been simple enough for Tommy to slip in a good word for Tubbo, and for his soulmate to be invited along, too.

Being together in person was the way _anima_ were meant to live, Tommy resolved early on in this development. Tubbo was truly his other half, and together, they got up to more trouble than they probably should have. Throughout his debate with the infamous Dream over his prized discs, Tubbo was there by his side, a solid and sure presence that he knew would always be there.

Tommy was content here, he thought.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The day Dream declared war on L’manburg was a swap day.

Tommy refused to admit he was afraid.

He stood somewhat shakily next to Fundy, feeling somewhat out of place with Tubbo’s short height, and hid his tremors in clenched fists as he stood as tall as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw himself—saw Tubbo—send him a concerned glance when the others weren’t looking.

He wouldn’t allow Dream to take this new life he had created for the two of them, this life were he had never been happier.

In that moment, shooting Dream an icy and even glare through his soulmate’s eyes, he swore he would do whatever it took to protect what they had built.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The day Eret betrayed them, Tommy snapped. How dare he? How dare he threaten all the happiness that they had all worked so hard for?

His vision blurred through his angry tears, but he could feel Tubbo’s gaze on him from across the obsidian bunker, and he blinked his vision clear in frustration.

That same day, Dream ignited TNT that exploded L’manburg, and Tommy took matters into his own hands.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy didn’t regret a lot of things. He believed in taking life by the horns and showing it who the fuck was boss, because if he didn’t, who would?

But standing there with shaky hands at Wilbur’s side, watching his own body take clipped steps away from Dream…

Well, he wished the bond hadn’t chosen that day to fuck them over, at least.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tubbo knew Tommy better than anyone else did, or so he liked to think.

He knew why Tommy had done it, why he had yelled in Dream’s face the way he had, demanding a duel. Why he had pulled the attention so fully to himself instead of Wil, instead of Fundy, instead of Tubbo himself.

Here and now, he represented Tommy. And he would play the part loyally.

Twenty minutes and the loss of Mellohi and Cat later, and Tubbo was whispering apologies to himself as he curled Tommy’s lanky limbs into a ball.

“It’s alright, okay?” Tubbo’s own voice whispered to him. He could hear Wilbur and Fundy talking in low voices just outside. “You did your best. I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

Tubbo shuddered. “But your second life—I just lost it for you—”

“Shut up, idiot. What matters is that you’re okay, and L’manburg is free.” Tubbo watched his soulmate brush shaggy, too-long brunette hair out of his eyes and beam at him. “It’s you and me against the world, big man. You and me against Dream. Don’t you forget it.”

Tubbo gave Tommy a wobbly smile. “You and me.”

And he knew that they both meant it.

\---------------------------------------------------------

In all honesty, Tommy wasn’t too sure about Wilbur’s election idea.

What he was sure about was keeping L’manburg safe. Was keeping control over the timid peace they had fought so hard for.

So he agreed.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy couldn’t help but be thankful that the bond had chosen the day of the debate to swap them.

Tommy was passionate and knew what he believed in, but he had always been shit at words. But Tubbo was equally passionate and infinitely more well-spoken, at least in a vocal sense.

And so he played his role, mediating the debate between George and, though the other Brit didn’t know it, Tubbo. And Tubbo played his role equally well, interspersing logical points and solid plans between spontaneous outbursts of noise and cursing in order to stay in character.

In that moment, Tommy was proud to be an _anima_ , and thanked whatever higher being that was out there that Tubbo was his other half.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy, logically, knew he had already been through a lot during the war for independence.

Despite all of that, standing between rows of wooden seats, frozen in terror as Schlatt demanded his and Wilbur’s demise, was the most terrified Tommy determined he’d ever been.

A stolen glance back as he fled revealed two things: the first, Wil dissolving into dust as a well-aimed arrow stole his older brother figure’s second life. The second, Schlatt’s hand aggressively resting on his soulmate’s shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of the uniform, demanding that his other half hunt him down and ensure his destruction.

Wilbur reappeared at Tommy’s side mere seconds later, uniform torn, and sharply tugged at Tommy’s arm, pulling him along into the trees.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tubbo watched his leader and his soulmate disappear into the darkness and swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the weight of Schlatt’s hand.

He wasn’t ready to be alone again.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The first time Tubbo switched after Schlatt’s election, he panicked upon finding himself in a crowded ravine, the only light being a beat-up looking lantern and a lazily burning torch.

At the sound of his startled gasping, Wilbur appeared around a corner. He looked different, Tubbo thought—his L’manburg uniform was gone, replaced by a baggy white shirt and beige pants alongside a large brown trenchcoat. L’manburg’s flag, a patch on all of their uniforms, was hastily stitched into one shoulder of Wilbur’s coat, and he still wore the same black beanie as before. There were bags under his eyes as he stared at Tubbo.

“You alright, Toms?”

Tubbo swallowed and forced himself into character. “Yeah. Sorry, Wil. Just a nightmare.”

Wilbur’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “When you’re ready, come out into the main area, okay? We need to start fixing this place up.”

Tubbo grunted out an agreement, and Wilbur disappeared out of the entryway.

As he got to his feet, Tubbo took in his own appearance. Too-big khaki pants. One of Tommy’s old shirts with the red sleeves. A green bandana around his neck. Upon closer inspection, Tubbo determined it to be a scrap of one of his own old shirts. He had no idea where Tommy had gotten it.

With a deep breath, he headed towards the hole in the stone where Wilbur had disappeared.

\---------------------------------------------------------

When Tubbo woke the next day, it was to Quackity poking his head into his room, and when they made eye contact, the vice president tilted his head at Tubbo quizzically.

“Mornin, Tubbo! You feeling better today?”

Tubbo swallowed down his worry. “Yeah, Big Q. Thanks.”

At this, Quackity grinned. “Well meet us at the podium, yeah? Schlatt wants to solidify what he was talking about yesterday about the walls.” With a wave, his vanished, the door closing behind him.

Confused and concerned, Tubbo hauled himself out of bed. He and Tommy needed a way to stay on the same page, and _quick_.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The next swap, Tommy woke to a book and quill stuffed hastily beneath Tubbo’s pillow. When he picked it up and leafed through it, he realized it was a diary, dated and in his soulmate’s wobbly and uncertain handwriting. Upon closer inspection, he realized it contained every important piece of information that he, as Tubbo, was meant to know.

The first sentence on the first page was _For Big T._

Tommy grinned, feeling a little warmer.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tubbo began to dread switch days.

He wasn’t sure which was worse: Schlatt’s honey-dipped lies, or Wilbur’s choppy, crazed rhetoric that got progressively worse each time he found himself in the dreary ravine that was Pogtopia.

Reading Tommy’s own book didn’t help. Each day only seemed to further document their mentor’s downward spiral.

Tubbo sat next to Technoblade, listening to Wilbur rave about how he, Tubbo, would betray them and couldn’t be trusted, and allowed himself to internally scream.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy hated Schlatt with his entire being.

Not only had the man ripped him from his other half and attempted to pit them against one another, but his words were sickeningly smooth and so _fake_ that Tommy wanted to sock him in the jaw every time he opened his mouth.

But when he was around Schlatt, he wasn’t Tommy, and so he kept his mouth shut. He bonded subtly with Quackity. He visited Niki often when he swapped, finding comfort in her presence and wanting to confirm to himself that she was doing alright.

When he swapped during Tubbo’s festival preparations, he found time to subtly search for Wilbur’s TNT. He could never find it.

\---------------------------------------------------------

When Wilbur put the pressure on Tubbo to decide whether or not Manburg would go up in smoke, Tommy wanted to scream.

When Schlatt and Quackity started trapping his soulmate in yellow concrete on that goddamn cursed podium, Tommy couldn’t breathe.

When Schlatt demanded that Techno execute his other half, Tommy’s brain flatlined.

When the podium exploded into a flurry of red, white, and blue, everything went fuzzy, and Tommy howled until his throat went raw.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy could feel Tubbo’s weary gaze on him as he stared up at Technoblade, knuckles raw and bruises blooming across his skin.

He had sworn aloud that the fight was for Tubbo, not Wilbur, and he meant it.

\---------------------------------------------------------

From then on, the two were reunited, but Tommy could never find joy in the dreary days in the ravine. His only comfort was having his soulmate by his side, safe. Where Tommy could protect him.

_Protect him where he had failed before—_

They slept together every night. Both kept up their diaries, despite the fact that they were together again.

With a crazed Wilbur and an apathetic Techno often their only company, Tommy hastened to remind himself that all that mattered was Tubbo, the two of them versus Dream.

So how they did they end up in the middle of this fucking mess?

\---------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully, November 16th was not a swap day.

Tommy glanced at Tubbo across the narrow corridor that Techno had led them to, watching the other boy’s eyes light up as he declared loudly and happily that they had the Blade, that there was no way they could lose.

Tommy’s gut clenched uncomfortably. He pushed the feeling aside and smiled alongside the rest of the rebellion.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Seeing Tommy on the podium filled Tubbo with more pride than he could’ve imagined.

His soulmate seemed so uncertain there, obviously out of place, but everyone was giving the blonde their full attention, and Tubbo couldn’t have been happier.

They had gotten L’manburg back. It was over. He and Tommy could be free again.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Seeing Tubbo on the podium, finally getting the recognition and voice he deserved, filled Tommy with more pride than he could’ve imagined.

Only a few moments later, Tommy cried out in anger as a colorful firework struck his soulmate in the back.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tubbo yelled in fear as L’manburg exploded below his feet.

Wilbur was gone, he had disappeared, _how had he not noticed—_

When Phil’s sword sunk into Wilbur’s chest, taking his final life, Tubbo choked alongside Tommy’s screech.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy fought Techno’s withers with a grief-fueled vengeance.

He hated them he hated them _he hated them how dare they_ —

Despite everything, he kept an eye on Tubbo, not noticing how Techno vanished into the ether the minute the battle was over.

\---------------------------------------------------------

He missed the discs. He missed when everything was easy and it was just him and Tubbo and no one else mattered.

The sunset made Tubbo’s hair glow almost red. Tommy’s soulmate hummed along with the music softly and sadly, tracing the crack lines in the planks of the bench below them with a fidgeting hand. Tommy took a shaky breath, taking it all in as much as he could.

Tubbo turned his head to Tommy and gave him a weak smile. “Tommy… what do we do now?”

\---------------------------------------------------------

Phil was the first since Deo to discover that the two of them were _anima_.

He simply chuckled at Tommy, in Tubbo’s body, and his startled expression before commenting, “You think I wouldn’t recognize my own son anywhere?”

That day, Phil helped Tommy build the bunker that he’d been planning to build with Tubbo, and Tommy hoped against hope that normalcy had finally returned.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Of course, it had to be Dream that ruined everything. It always was.

It had been Dream that declared war on their precious country in the first place. It had been Dream who had given Wilbur the TNT.

And now it was Dream threatening Tubbo into throwing Tommy out, which the brunette had done with an even expression and a cool voice, but Tommy knew better. Tommy saw the pain in his friend’s eyes as Dream grabbed him roughly by the arm and tugged him away, Ghostbur floating after them.

History was repeating itself, and Tommy wanted nothing more than to kick the universe’s ass and be done with it.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The diaries returned to their former importance. Tommy documented day after day of boring exile, of Dream burning any progress he made, of who brought him what pity gifts.

Tommy, guiltily, began to live for swap days, because at least then he could pretend that everything was alright, and that he wasn’t living in a beat-up tent thousands of blocks from his home and his soulmate.

He knew he was lying to himself.

Phil, somehow, could always tell when it was a swap day, and would meet him in New L’manburg. He denied his father figure’s affections, but deep down, he was grateful.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tubbo wasn’t sure how he felt about Ghostbur knowing they were _anima_.

The ghost had made a casual comment one night as the two sat in Logstedshire, the spirit sorting his blue while Tubbo fashioned a diamond pickaxe to hide in the secret chest he had placed beneath Tommy’s special log (Ghostbur had implied that it was meaningful, but his soulmate had yet to write about its meaning in his diary).

“It’s very nice of you to make those things and hide them for him, Tubbo. He works hard for what Dream gives him, but Dream isn’t always very nice about it.” The ghost frowns, as if contemplating, while Tubbo’s brain screeches to a halt at the dead man’s words.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

“What, about Dream?” Wilbur turns to look at him. “I don’t really know why he does what he does, to be honest. He seems like a nice lad, but then he’s mean to Tommy and I haven’t decided how I feel about him, if I’m honest.”

“No, no,” Tubbo shakes his head, Tommy’s now-shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes. “What did you call me?”

“Oh.” Ghostbur grins, like he had solved the world’s biggest mystery. “Tubbo. You’re his Tubbo.”

Tubbo can’t breathe. “How—”

“Your spirits are different.” The ghost tips his head to one side. “You just feel different. I haven’t told anyone, if that’s why you’re stressed.” He turns the blue dye over restlessly in his semi-transparent fingers. “You don’t hate Tommy, do you Tubbo?”

Tubbo sucks in a breath. “Of course not, Dream forced my hand—”

Wilbur smiles sadly. “I didn’t think so.” He gestures to something hanging around Tubbo’s—Tommy’s—neck that he had not noticed before. “You should know that he doesn’t hate you, either.”

Dirt-caked fingers find the smooth, shimmering metal of a compass. A thumb rubs over the engraving on the back.

_Your Tubbo._

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tommy isn’t sure how much of this he can handle.

He is _tired_. He hates existing alone in Logstedshire, with only Dream’s taunts and fake promises of friendship and occasionally Ghostbur for company. The ghost remembered little, and thus brought Tommy little comfort.

Days stretched into weeks, and Tommy only felt the bags under his eyes and the rips in his clothing grow.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Upon reading Tommy’s latest diary entry after their latest switch, Tubbo let tears run unashamedly down Tommy’s cheeks.

_Big T,_

_When will this all be over?_


End file.
